The First Musical: Chapter Five: Gisele, Part 3

I listened to the notes he played, soaking in their simple intricacy. The possibilities for singing these lyrics were numerous. “Because you know I love you,” I began singing, slowly, guessing this would be more of a ballad. “Though you have chosen someone—wait a minute. What?”

Johnathan stopped playing again. “What?”

“Irial knows she loves him but he’s with someone else? How does that work?”

He nodded; “Irial is at his equivalent to a bachelor party, at a tavern, when he meets Collette, who is also out with friends. They notice each other immediately, but try diverting their friends to other people—unsuccessfully, I might add. So they end up dancing together, and quickly fall in love.”

“That’s so cliché.”

“But still plausible. Especially in literature. So, anyway, here, they’re walking home and he accidently lets slip that there’s someone else, named Delilah, who he’ll marry the next day.”

“So Collette is pissed?”

“Not quite. She’s angry at first, but she doesn’t stay angry long because she does love him,” Johnathan continued. “At this point, she’s more hurt than angry, but you’ll see when she’s angry again, especially when we put the dialogue with the lyrics.”

“Okay.”

“Ready to begin again?”

“I’ll try.”

After a few measures, I began, the notes emitting from my lips different from the ones I had first sung; “Because you know I love you, though you have chosen someone else; and it tortures me to think you would abandon her for myself….”

I sang through the next verse and chorus, and when I’d come to the end of my lines, Johnathan said, “Here you and Irial converse more, and when you tell him to leave, he replies in his own section.” He then sang Irial’s part. It was more playful than Collette’s. His voice entranced me, though. There was depth to it that brought the words to life, as though he could spin the song into moving tapestries. I stared at him before long, only pulled back to the rehearsal when he said, “Then you insist on his inanity while he tries to blame you partially for this late development. At this point, you’re infuriated at the accusation, but still hurt and troubled because he won’t listen to you.”

With this brief explanation, I broke into the new section, a little faster, a little more distressed, volleying the lines with him. Toward the end I found myself staring at him, again. I hadn’t meant to, but that’s how luck would have it. There was something that drew me to him and terrified me. My brain screamed that he was dangerous, that this scenario had already played out tragically before. But Johnathan had helped reawaken in me this need to sing, and that felt like reuniting with an old friend. I didn’t want to lose it again.

“...don’t kiss me,” I finished, his blue-green eyes flying to mine as the final note died away. Something in those eyes wanted to reach out, touch me, but there was a wariness. Almost as though he believed I might be an illusion of the light.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, his eyes still holding mine.

For the longest time neither of us said anything. We just sat there staring. My former numbness was overrun with emotions I couldn’t name and thoughts that flitted away as soon as I realized they were there. It felt like we could have stayed like that forever, statues of something that never happened and never could be. But then he moved to touch me and I snatched up my keys, running out the door before he could make a sound.

I felt guilty, leaving him so suddenly. But I didn’t need a relationship, even if I was possibly going to break my no performing rule. My mind kept thinking that if I hadn’t left, he would have kissed me.

If he had, I feared history would have repeated itself.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 4

By October, the commercials were done and available on the site, everyone was back in school, and Caroline and I had worked out the first speech. We would be delivering the same speech in separate locations—her idea since we didn’t have time for me to do all of it alone. Half a year was already gone and in a year’s time, we needed to begin planning the march. I think the main inspiration of a march came from her never leading her own. Personally, I could have lived without one, but it made for a great way to bring everyone together and finish out two years. If enough people showed up, there was my proof I had made significant impact.

Drei had opted not to travel with me, though his reasoning was ambiguous. The day before I left, Valetta and Mitchell had returned, exhausted but smiling. Everyone had trusted them and had agreed if they felt threatened by what we were doing, they would contact the Council who would contact me directly and handle the problem—meaning there wouldn’t be a problem.

I wasn’t sure what Drei was doing while I was traveling across the northeast—Caroline had insisted on taking the south, probably because she wasn’t fond of the cold. He wasn’t fighting with Nick, though. Nick, when Drei declined to accompany me, asked if he might. There wasn’t much for him to do as we wouldn’t need a security detail until the march. Having one at the casual speeches would give us the wrong image, even if everyone except Caroline and Ian disagreed. Even Justin and Angeline said I should take few muscles with me, warning against rioting and government intervention. But that would only provide a reason for there to be intervention and that was something I wanted to avoid.

Drei, of course, had no opinion on this. If he had, he would have sounded a bit hypocritical by not wanting to come. But I wasn’t going to think about that because I couldn’t risk being bitter.

Having Nick along wasn’t so bad, though. It gave me a chance to show him I hadn’t changed much. The way he had acted since that first night staying with us made me uncomfortable, though he probably felt doubly so. He was the only one not to mention I looked different—not that I would know I looked different for obvious reasons. Maybe some one-on-one time was all we really needed.

“Are you sure you don’t want a separate room?” Nick asked as we rode the elevator to the fourth floor and our hotel room. “Drei won’t mind or anything?”

“Nick, I trust you,” I assured him for the third time since he had seen the reservations. “Unless there’s some reason why I shouldn’t, in which case you should tell me now.”

“No reason you shouldn’t trust me; I was just thinking—”

“If Drei cared, he’d be here,” I said somewhat bitterly. I hadn’t meant for it come out that way. There wasn’t anything I could think of to say to him to make it better.

Opening the door to the room and dropping our bags on the beds—mine farthest from the window—he announced he was taking a shower. I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to figure out what I was going to do. I didn’t want to be outside, but I didn’t want to stay in the room, either. Part of me was anxious about the speech in the morning at the park. Drei had helped me choose the locations for all of the orations—most of which were in parks, though a few he arranged to be at college campuses.

Grabbing my notebook, I headed to find a quiet corner in the lounge downstairs.

I stared at the first words of my speech. “Elementals are a miracle, a blessing, the chance to help the environment and ourselves; our government wants to take that away, to misuse our gifts. And they don’t expect any consequences for their actions.” It seemed more than an hour I stared at them, unsure how I had ever agreed to do this alone. How it was Drei wouldn’t be there, at least for the first one. I could already guess whoever showed up tomorrow would want some excellent show of power—which I wasn’t prepared for—and probably demand how I knew what I did about the abusive process of breaking elementals. Could I prove that homes were broken by this? Could I prove anything?

Cradling my head in my hands, I forced myself to breath, hoping the old pastime of slow breathing would calm my nerves and make the threat of hyperventilating dissipate. If he was here, he’d probably say it was all right and I’d instantly feel better. Especially if he added something about how wonderful I was going to be. And worse come to worse, he would be in the audience for me to look at if things started to go awry.

He wasn’t going to be there, though. And he wasn’t going to pop up out of nowhere to tell me I had a brilliant speech, I had something important to say, and even if some left tomorrow feeling cheated, a lot more would leave even more devoted to our cause.

“You don’t look too good,” Nick observed, leaning over the back of the couch. For a split second I almost let my mind lie to me and say it was Drei. But I knew better, and lying to myself now wouldn’t help anything.

“You’re dripping on me,” I complained, swiping at the wet spots on the back of my blouse.

“Oh, really?” he wondered aloud. If I had turned around to look at him, I probably would have seen a mischievous curve to his lips and known what was coming next. As I opened my mouth to say something else, Nick bent further over and started shaking his head like a wet dog, splattering me in water.

“Oh, stop that,” I said, angrily, not in the mood for silliness. Maybe one-on-one time was exactly the opposite of what we needed.

Nick stopped shaking his head, a smile on his lips. His hair was curly now that it was partially dried. One particularly long curl fell into his jade eyes, but he didn’t move it. “I’m not dripping on you anymore,” he pointed out.

Smiling was inevitable; it was Nick, after all, and I had always found his happiness infectious. Closing my notebook, I sat it next to me on the open cushion. Nick jumped over the back of the couch and laid down, his legs dangling over the armrest and his head now resting in my lap. So much for being dry.

“If you didn’t like being wet, you shouldn’t have said anything,” he commented, staring up at me with his bright gems.

Eternal: Chapter Nine, Part 1

Chapter Nine: Reason to Stay

Good news met me upon my return. The commercial was a success. Within the first 24 hours the website had several thousand hits. That turned into several hundred million after a week’s time. Mikael and Xenia added a comments section to the site after the first day; while some people insisted we were crazy, insane, needed to be locked up for life, there were even more who asked what it was like, how did it feel. They believed; even if there was only a hint of belief, it was enough.

Drei, still worried about me—never straying too far, always looking over his shoulder, watching for signs that something was happening again—and wouldn’t let me hold a group meeting to discuss our budding success and the next set of commercials. If he could have, I think he may have swept me away somewhere new to hopefully forget about everything again—likely a better option than fighting himself. Time and second chances weren’t luxuries we had, though; he eventually compromised on individual meetings with my team.

Caroline was first because she had demanded it. I needed to talk to Ian about the next set of commercials, but there wasn’t a point in arguing.

“Missed you at the party,” she said, sitting down across from me in the living room. “What happened?”

“Long story;” I hoped she would drop it. “I’m better now.”

“Well, at least you’re better.” She waited a moment as though vainly hoping the silence would drive me to reveal my secrets. “Anyway, you saw the numbers, right?”

“Most of them,” I said, nodding toward my notebook. “You won’t show me how much you’re paying for everything.”

Smirking, she said, “Good. That’s how I wanted it. And…we’re ahead of schedule;” she crossed her legs and leaned forward on her elbows. “So we only have two more rounds of commercials and two more additions to the website left before we go live.”

“We’re not going live with broadcasts; we’re going live—”

“As in speaking publicly,” she finished, waving a hand to the side. “I remember. More my point was, with a website, we could put together mini broadcasts that people could download for free. That way people who can’t see either of us speak can still know what’s going on.”

“I’ll talk to Mikael and Xenia about it.” I liked the idea; I had already planned to discuss making the commercials available on the site with them, and this tied rather nicely into that. My primary goal with the website was to keep the message accessible, especially as it evolved.

“Also, did you plan on keeping the apartment as your office?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Shrugging, she replied, “Nothing wrong with it. I was just wondering.”

“You didn’t buy something, did you?”

Caroline stood, denying it. I couldn’t help but feel she had, or was looking to, at least. “I’d best be going,” she said, giving me a hug before heading toward the door. “I’ll see if I can find any of my old research and bring it over. You can look through and see if anything’s useful,” she explained over her shoulder. “Take care, Abs.”

“You, too.”

I was surprised Caroline hadn’t thrown a fit, but that might have been because she’d already thrown it to Drei or someone else. She was behaving strangely, though, more secretive than usual; she also didn’t try to make me talk about it like she usually would have. How much did Drei tell everyone, if anything at all? Or was this something else entirely?

Eternal: Chapter Eight, Part 5

It turns out, about a week.

Until the day the commercial aired, to be exact. I was told it was a wonderful success, and the party Caroline had thrown for everyone was grand fun. But I didn’t know because I wasn’t there.

While dressing for the party, I wanted to check my appearance in a mirror. I hadn’t thought about mirrors in a while. It seemed strange, that day, I hadn’t looked in a mirror for so long. But then, I hadn’t had a reason to do so. I hadn’t worn makeup since before my turning and I didn’t usually do much with my hair. But I was nervous, and I wanted to ensure I looked okay.

Nick had left an hour earlier because he had promised to help with set up for the party; I would have left with him but I was specifically told I wasn’t to arrive until the party started, and it would be even better if I was fashionably late. Remembering the vanity Drei had bought when we first moved here—that I hardly used—I went into Nick’s room. Sure enough, it was in the corner with a few cologne bottles, hair gel, and some other grooming things of his lined up in front of the mirror.

I could already see the dress in the mirror and knew it looked nice, but that wasn’t my concern. I wanted to know if it looked nice on me. So backing up, I looked again, and the dress was still there…but I wasn’t. I thought it was that I was too far away and my vision was going bad. But when I neared the mirror to just look at my face, it wasn’t there. My earrings were, but not my face.

Immediately falling into denial, I left the room, searching the kitchen for a pot, a bowl, a ladle, anything that was reflective. I pulled open the cabinets, grabbing everything that might have worked, and when I had gone through all of those, I went through the drawers, snatching up cutting knives and teaspoons, even forks. And in all of them, I wasn’t there. It was like I didn’t exist.

I swiped everything off the counter onto the floor, threw the mixing bowls in different directions—the sound of something smashing reached me though I didn’t care enough to know what; I slammed the drawers and cabinet doors, oblivious that they just swung back open with the force. My hands reached into the open cabinets, taking up plates and glasses. I didn’t care what happened to that damned kitchen with all of its reflective dishes and silverware that couldn’t find me; it didn’t matter if I broke a plate here or a glass there. It didn’t bother me I had cut my hand with a knife when I grabbed the wrong end, or that I was crying so hard everything was a blur. None of it mattered.

I didn’t matter.

I wasn’t alive, and that meant I didn’t have a reflection; I wasn’t able to prove to myself I still existed. For all I knew I really was a ghost. I had died back in that hospital room and was so in denial that everyone just told me I was somehow still walking upright and solid.

Stumbling from the kitchen, I couldn’t stop crying. I was crying so hard I felt sick and like I was suffocating. But I couldn’t stop; it wouldn’t stop hurting. I didn’t even know what was hurting. My knees went weak and I collapsed on the carpet.

Eternal: Chapter Seven, Part 5

Drei wouldn’t tell me where we were going, just that I would know soon enough. Until then, we were on a train traveling west, and he was keeping a tight hold on our tickets.

“Are you sure I’m going to like this?” I asked for perhaps the tenth time since we had left the apartment that morning. Part of me hoped if I was annoying enough, he’d slip and tell me.

“I cannot guarantee you will,” he said, as he had all day, “but I know it is something you have been considering doing.”

That told me a lot…not really. There were a lot of things I had considered doing over the years and most of them I hadn’t thought much about lately. I was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters. However, it was rather nice to be alone with Drei again and not having to worry about anyone else. Resting my head on his shoulder, I said, “Should I thank you now or later?”

“Neither,” he whispered, taking my hand in his. “Later, you will make a decision. Now you should sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” I insisted, holding back a yawn. I didn’t want to waste our time together sleeping. Especially since this was only my second day with him in weeks.

“You are.”

“You can’t know that.” I hoped I could convince him.

“It is raining outside;” he smiled kindly down at me, knowing he had won. I didn’t hate him for it; I honestly should have remembered it was raining. Rain made the air heavier; I’m no scientist, so I don’t know how to explain how exactly it does, but I can feel it. When it’s raining, I usually feel somewhat depressed if I don’t have someone near me to change that. Lately, that hadn’t been as true; instead I found I felt tired, though I could push past that if needed. Drei insisting I give in to it wasn’t helping anything.

“When you wake, we will have reached our destination.”

His arm wound around me, pulling me close. The next thing I knew, he was gently shaking me awake, saying something about arriving.

“Five more minutes,” I bargained groggily, curling closer to him.

“You may sleep when we are returning home, and I promise not to wake you then,” he said, combing the hair out of my face with his fingers. “But for now you have to wake. And look, the rain has stopped.”

Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes to clear the sleep from them. “Where are we?”

“It stops being a surprise when I tell you,” he teased kindly, grabbing our overnight bag and taking my hand.

It seemed since the Council knew, he didn’t care how we were seen in public. Before, everything had to be done with the utmost caution; no one could know—though this attitude had relaxed slightly with my turning. Now it didn’t matter, because the only people we had to be afraid of already knew and weren’t going to do anything about it for a while. Personally, I preferred it that way; it was less complicated.

I followed him along the aisle and down the stairs where we joined a few other travelers waiting to depart. Drei steadied me as the train came to a stop at the station.

“Do you mind walking?” he asked, glancing at me as we headed down the street from the station.

“Not at all,” I said distractedly. There was something familiar about this place. I’d been here before, I knew that, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was driving me crazy not knowing, especially since my mind seemed to be putting a block on whatever importance this place held for me.

“Do you remember?”

We passed the Café Cherie, and I knew where we were. I stopped to stare at it, unsure why he would bring me back here now. Drei turned to watch me, a certain glint in his eye at my revelation. His lips were pressed together, though, as if unsure he was doing the right thing.

“This is where you told me about—”

“And you left me there feeling guiltier than ever I had felt before,” he interrupted. My shock at being home—well, in my hometown—was clouding my judgment. Until my movement was fully in motion, it was dangerous to admit being an elemental.

“You said I’d have to make a decision,” I said slowly, staring through the large glass windows. This was the beginning, and some part of me was convinced it might also be the end. “Does that have to do with us?”

Eternal: Chapter Five, Part 5

It felt as though much more time than an hour had passed, but I trusted the pristine grandfather clock in the corner of the dull room was in top condition. Sipping at my water, I spent most of the hour glancing around at the wood paneled walls, the well-kept crown molding along ceiling, the shaded windows, and the impeccably clean but uncomfortable furniture. However, I did spend the first couple minutes after she left inspecting myself, trying to attain a sense of how thin I really looked. All of my limbs seemed properly proportioned, but who knew? Perhaps that was all in my head.

My mind wondered if the woman would come back saying Mikael had died in the last hour. If she did, I wouldn’t be happy. I wouldn’t care what kind of punishment Drei gave me; I would probably kill her and not think twice about it.

Then I stopped, shocked at my suddenly violent thoughts. I couldn’t remember having wanted to purposefully hurt someone. I had practiced self-defense often enough, but I had never physically hurt someone just to hurt her or him. Mentally, I made a note to talk to Drei about that; I wanted to write it off as bad vibes and stress, but not even that made sense. I would hate for it to be something more and not have brought it up. Unfortunately, it was forgotten in the next moment.

The door opened and Mikael entered, the cheerily strange woman smiling behind him, visible until he shut the door again. He had grown so much, just like Kora. I had always been one of those kids who hated when adults gushed over how much I had changed, and now I understood why; I never would have guessed he was in high school still. Mikael carried himself much the same as Drei did: tall and proper, a thumb hooked loosely in his pants pocket, relaxed but charismatic. His thick black tresses still retained some of their youthful wildness, but were tamer in the way the curls framed his visage.

“Margie said you were here to see me about something personal,” he started, crossing to sit in the chair adjacent to mine. “I must admit, while you look familiar, I don’t remember who you are.”

“Mikael;” I couldn’t help smiling at his questioning eyes as he struggled to place me. At least he didn’t judge me as a danger as Kora had. “You’ve grown up so much…even your voice has stopped cracking.”

Blushing, embarrassed, he waved off the comment, saying, “Margie said you told her you were Miss Jones. But I’m afraid, when my voice was still cracking, I didn’t know anyone’s last name.”

“Oh, you’re thinking too hard. Think…feathers and games.”

“Abriel?” he gasped before I could stop him. Reaching across the distance, he embraced me. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Well, here I am.”

“But why? And why couldn’t you just tell Margie your name in the first place?” he asked.

“We’ll get to that soon enough,” I assured him, waving the questions away for the time being. “How are you doing? And how in the world did you end up at a boarding school?”

He shrugged his broad shoulders, saying, “My parents got used to not having a kid around. They stuck around for about three months after I went back and then…they disappeared. So I found Mitchell while he was following a young earth elemental and told him about it. He told Valetta and she’s been paying for me to go here,” he said, which made sense why Mitchell had reported back so quickly; he didn’t even have to look for Mikael.

“It seems so sketchy here, though,” I said, unable to hide my concern. Valetta had chosen this place, and usually I trusted her judgment, but so far my reception had led me to wonder about how safe an environment this was.

“That’s just because Margie’s wary of everyone,” Mikael said. “Most of the boys here are earth or water elementals, so any visitors she doesn’t recognize she hassles a little. It’s mostly for our protection.”

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 3

Caroline drove us across town to Ian’s loft apartment. I hadn’t been there since the Thanksgiving we spent together, but it hadn’t changed much. The most striking difference was the artwork everywhere. Canvases were propped against and hung on all the walls, the images ranging from tranquil or busy scenes to abstract splashes of color or seemingly randomly placed angles and shapes.

One piece in particular caught my eye—partly for the color choices and partly because it seemed to be calling to me, demanding attention; it was propped against the floor to ceiling windows in the area functioning as a living room. In the center, blue, green, gray, and red ribbons twisted and intertwined in the center, strands peeling away in different directions, the other colors clutching to them—following and pulling them back. The strand was surrounded by blackness, a void of nonexistence; except light radiated around the ribbons and the strips breaking away.

“He calls it Contamination,” Caroline said, standing beside me. “I think it’s brilliant, but he won’t listen to me. Something about it being a statement.”

“It is a statement,” I said, wanting to touch it, but not wanting to be disrespectful, either.

“How?” Caroline huffed impatiently, crossing her arms. “Ian won’t explain it to me.”

“This is us,” I said, pointing to the strands. “The four elements and consequently all of the elementals. The blackness is the world; the people who don’t have the connections to nature we have, so they don’t understand what we do, especially about the way the world is.”

“Then the light is the contamination?” she asked, glancing from me back to the painting. “Contamination is a bad thing, isn’t it?”

“It’s often given a negative connotation, yes. But in this case, people don’t see the good we cause. Most would be afraid if they knew the truth about a lot of us,” I said, struggling to find the words that would make her understand what I did. “So to darkness, light can be seen as a bad thing, though oftentimes light is given a positive connation. To a world in darkness, light is contamination.”

“So we’re just gifted to make things worse?”

“Not at all;” I turned to face her. I never would have thought she would have drawn that conclusion. “We make things better, in theory.”

“You’re losing me,” she warned, shaking her head and closing her eyes. “We’re contaminating the dark world but we’re the good ones?”

“More, the world is in darkness because they don’t know. When they don’t know, it doesn’t really seem like anything is changing. There’s just…an angry environmentalist trying to stop companies from polluting rivers, or—or a crazy tree hugger trying to save the rainforest,” I said, taking a different approach. “For the longest time, we’ve been discouraged from letting people know we’re elementals, that we’re different. That’s why the branching strips are being pulled back.”

“But why are there are so many branching off if they’re not supposed to?”

“Because the people need to know eventually. If they know, they might listen more to what we have to say.”

“Or they might just think we’re freaks,” Caroline countered skeptically, crossing her arms and shivering. Definitely not a reaction I would have expected from her. I couldn’t help feeling these thoughts weren’t necessarily her own, but someone else’s that had been ground into her.

“Some people will think anyone different is a freak,” Ian said from behind us, causing us both to jump. Caroline hit his arm as I waited for him to finish his statement. “If any of us are really going to make a difference in anything, we have to stop being afraid of the people who will hate us.”

“Why didn’t you just explain that the first time I asked you?” Caroline demanded, pouting a little. I wasn’t sure she understood; all I could really hope was that she was beginning to.

“Do you realize how long it took her to explain it to you?” he retorted, turning his bright blue eyes on me. “You’ve changed…a lot.”

I smiled, trying to lighten his mood as his observation seemed to depress him. “And you haven’t changed at all,” I said, noting he still wore a stocking cap over his flaming red hair.

Hugging me, he added, “Sorry you had to explain it to her. I’m glad you understood it.”

“Of course I understood it.”

“I didn’t,” Caroline reminded us, hands on her hips. “Oh, and you have to call Abs Leirba now.”

“Why’s that?” he asked, his left eyebrow cocked.

“Drei’s choice, really. I’m just going with the flow.”

“I’m going to make coffee,” Caroline announced, heading to the kitchen area.

“You know where everything is.” When she was out of earshot, he confided, “She really missed you. What took you so long to resurface?”

Eternal: Chapter Four, Part 1

Chapter Four: Light My Fire

Valetta and Mitchell searched for a few people I had met at the camp whom I knew would be assets to the project if we could find them. I had absolute confidence in their ability. The only restraint I gave them, however, was not to approach them regarding the movement. That was something I needed to do personally.

Drei helped me find the one person locally I knew would be the most difficult to approach. Then, after insisting I adjust to introducing myself as Leirba, he disappeared, claiming he had something he needed to do. I didn’t know what he was doing but I trusted him, so I tried not to let the worry overrun my thoughts.

The day had been overcast but I had arranged a rendezvous after dusk, not wanting to risk frightening my guest with an unanticipated injury. We were meeting at a café. It had been forever since I had had a cinnamon chai latte and I couldn’t help breathing in the scent every few minutes to luxuriate in it; it smelled like heaven.

I had to wait quite a while for her to arrive—granted, I had been extremely early. When she walked through the door, I couldn’t help smiling at her. Her long red hair cascaded over her shoulders. She was wearing her classic skinny jeans paired with rainbow flats to match her tie-dye tee. Fashion aside, she wasn’t how I remembered her; her lips smiled, but sorrow and guilt made her cautious, tentative. Sleepless nights left dark circles under her eyes that showed through her concealer; she looked thinner.

“Caroline,” I called, catching her bronze eyes.

She smiled a little more warmly as she strolled up to the table. Cocking her head to one side and furrowing her brow slightly, she asked, “Have we met before? You look…familiar.”

“I’m Leirba,” I said, shaking her hand.

She gasped and grimaced; “Your hands are freezing.”

Folding my hands in my lap, I nodded my head in the direction of the empty seat. “Please…sit.”

“I’ll just get something—”

“Mocha chai?” I interrupted, motioning to the girl at the counter. I had already ordered and paid for it, but I didn’t want it cold by the time she arrived. The guy working brought her drink over a moment later, smiling flirtatiously at the two of us before returning to work.

After taking a drink, she set her cup down and stared at me a moment. “How’d you know?”

“I have my ways,” I replied cryptically, still holding her gaze as I sipped my own drink. Her brow furrowed in confusion and I could see the allure Mitchell found in puzzling me. True, I hated when I was the one being puzzled, but there was something about a good secret that made riddling another person entertaining.

“I really think I’ve met you somewhere before. I’m almost certain,” she insisted, sitting forward on her elbows. “But it doesn’t make sense because she—she…never mind.” Silence fell between us as she watched her finger run along the rim of her mug.

“She what?” I asked gently. “Died?”

Her bronze eyes shot up at me, surprised but also horrified and hurt. “Yeah;” she studied me carefully as if I were the devil. What I was doing was somewhat evil, I’ll concede, but it probably would have gone a lot worse if I’d come straight out with it from the start—the most likely outcome would be her yelling and storming out, and I couldn’t waste time chasing after her. She needed to arrive at her own conclusion about my identity if I was going to be able to bring her and the others into the fold within the month.

“Are you sure?” I tilted my head to one side, staring at her.

“I was there,” she replied softly, daring me to prove her wrong.

I sauntered to the counter, picking up a napkin on the way there. Using one of their pens, I wrote out Leirba in capital letters and drew an arrow from the A to the L. After thanking the guy at the register, I returned to our table and slid the napkin across its surface so she could read it.

At first, confusion flitted across her face as she tried making sense of it. She even glanced up at me a few times in disbelief. Disbelief and confusion quickly transformed into a bittersweet joy which was tossed aside by grief and guilt, her face disappearing into her hands as silent sobs wracked her body.

“Caroline?” She worried me. I hadn’t any idea she was this shaken by it. No, that’s a lie. I did know. Her entire revolution fell apart because she thought I was dead. Because she blamed herself.

“I’m so sorry, Abs,” she murmured into her hands. “I never meant for any of that to happen; I was trying to prevent anything like that. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”

Laying a hand on her forearm, I said, “You have nothing to be sorry for; you aren’t responsible for what happened.” As I spoke, I worked at untying the knot of sorrow and guilt inside her, pulling the emotions surrounding the event away from her and setting them adrift into the sky; only then was I able to loosen and release the pain of the event. All of it floated through the ceiling in blue and decaying black ribbons; it was almost as beautiful as when I had done the same for Nick upon our first meeting. Of course, then, I hadn’t really known what I was doing. I was just hoping my crazy idea would work.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 3

It felt almost like the air had been sucked from my lungs. None of this was making the least bit of sense and it was starting to unnerve me. Why couldn’t he just come out and say whatever it was he was avoiding? He wasn’t making anything better or easier. It only seemed to be messier and more puzzling.

“I don’t understand,” I conceded slowly, hoping against odds the answer would come before he said it. His hesitancy was making me fear it, whatever it was.

“I lost my sisters, and it nearly ruined me,” he whispered. “I could not imagine what losing you would be like, and I never wanted to know.”

“Drei…what did you do?”

He stood, my slipping from his as though he had forgotten it was there, and started pacing along the foot of the bed. “What I did is unforgivable and I understand if you loathe me,” he said, refusing to look at me. “I never wished my fate on anyone—least of all you…but I cannot undo what has been done.”

“What did—” It clicked. I had changed, but I hadn’t died. Not entirely. “You turned me,” I whispered, not sure how I felt about it. On one hand, it meant I could be with Drei and it was considerably more difficult for me to die. It also meant I hadn’t failed yet. But on the other, it meant facing the Council, for they would know eventually. It meant never growing old or living a full life. Would I be able to have children if I wanted them?

“I could not imagine living without you longer than I had already,” he murmured, his pacing stopped but his gaze hidden in shame.

I stood—or tried to, I should say—to go to him, instead bringing him to me as my legs crumpled under my weight. “You are still suffering side effects,” he explained, helping me into bed again. “You will be weak for a while, until your body adjusts. It doesn’t help you were injured when I—” The sentence completed itself, despite my fogginess. “Your wounds are healed, however,” he offered hopefully.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I said, “I love you, Drei. Nothing, not even this, can change that.”

“Not even the way I treated you?”

“I never stopped loving you.”

“Neither I you.” He held me in his arms, the embrace familiar but strange. If anything, it was more powerful, strengthened by his relief and our former separation.

Then the moment was ruined by me and my newly acquired thirst. He laughed uneasily, though he tried to feign lightheartedness. He left briefly and returned with a mug of warm, dark liquid. “Animal blood,” he offered.

“Do I have to?” My stomach felt sickened by the thought as my mouth watered for it.

“You will grow accustomed to it.”

“I don’t believe you.” I held out against drinking it a while longer before thirst won out. Surprisingly, I wasn’t tempted to gag at the coppery liquid. If anything, I wanted more. But Drei said I needed to learn to curb my thirst early on before I began experiencing blood lust. I wasn’t strong enough to press the issue.

“You need more sleep,” he insisted, setting the empty mug on the bedside table. “That is the only way to regain your strength.”

“You’re always telling me to sleep,” I teased, lying down again, exhaustion washing over me.

“Because you seldom tell yourself,” he replied, grinning, his fingertips gliding down my scar-less arm. I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch, soaking it up after having longed for it.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling myself drift off.

“Do not thank me for my selfishness,” he murmured softly into my ear as he lay beside me.

I thought about telling him how unselfish he had been. His motive was selfish, but in retrospect, he had done so much. He had given me the deepest secret he had as well as bought me more time to figure things out. He had saved me from failing, and no one else could have given me that. No one.

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 2

“The property was engulfed in flame by the time I returned. At first I was stunned, not understanding what was happening. Then I rushed inside, searching for my sisters. Ashlyn and Avery were already…they were so still when I found them. From what I could tell, they had been restless and playing a game in the parlor. The door had been left barely open and my sisters had been pressed against it as if that is where they had fallen. I carried their asphyxiated corpses outside, unable to stand the thought of them burning. I ran back inside for my parents, finding them dead and bloodied, their skin already beginning to burn. The rancid smell was embedding itself into my skin and burning my nostrils, so I left, unable to do anything more.

“When I returned to where I had left my sisters, she sat there, waiting; my sisters were nowhere to be seen. She taunted me, saying I had brought this upon them. No one refused her, and that was why they had to be taken from me. Then she wrapped her arms around me, beginning her seductions anew. I tried to kill her, not fully understanding what or who she was, but knowing I wanted her dead;” his anger seeped into his words, his voice shaking again but from emotions far more sinister than pain. “Knowing she deserved to be dead.

“I was seized from behind by two of her boys, several more circling us. She traced a finger along my face, explaining how she loved my energy and was glad I had made it difficult for her. Then she bit me.

“When I woke a few days later, I found she had changed me, one of her boys explaining what that meant exactly. He said I was hers, and that meant she could use me however she wished; then he fed me my first meal. I was shocked when he threw the woman at me. She was bleeding from a cut in her neck and I realized how famished I was. That woman was not my last, but each that I fed on, I regretted later,” he said, though I wasn’t sure why he was telling me this. Knowing he had killed people…I understood it was his condition, but it can be difficult to see your hero as…flawed.

“Not long after my awakening, she called me to her; she promised if I behaved she would tell me what had happened to my sisters. Where they had been buried.” He shook his head, clutching my hand between both of his. I hadn’t realized how painful it was for him when I had asked before. Never in my dreams did I think it could be this horrible.

“Years passed in what seemed like days, and each time I would request that one bit of information I wanted, she refused me. She insisted I had failed to be attentive enough. I had yet to accomplish this for her, or that. Somehow, I had managed to displease her. And yet I had done everything she asked of me and more. I abandoned my humanity and buried my feelings of remorse after each hunt; I gave her no reason to despise me. Every time she denied me, though, I grew to loathe her more.”

Drei stopped talking and studied our hands, as though that image gave him strength. As though it reminded him I wasn’t her, and I wasn’t here to hurt him.

“You don’t have to tell me everything now,” I told him. His amethyst eyes held mine, a look of disbelief obvious, as though I was missing something. And I probably was. But how could he expect me to catch all the little things he wasn’t saying when I was worried about what telling me this was doing to him?

“You do not understand what is happening yet,” he whispered, glancing away again. After another moment of silence—in which I couldn’t help but wonder why he felt it had to be done now when we had eternity—he began again. “I overheard her speaking, one day, of how she would never tell me where they were. She treasured my company too much. At dusk, before the rest awoke for a night of ravaging, I killed all of them. Decapitating each one in their sleep, and setting the place ablaze.

“I wandered then, unable to die and unable to live; I avoided feeding until I absolutely had to, and could usually be found drunk and unmotivated, occasionally brawling with drunken humans. It seemed the worst existence to be stuck in…until someone came along and gave me a bit of hope.” A smile cracked his lips. “Gloria found me brawling with a human. She told me to stop searching and then walked away.”

“You followed her,” I said, sitting up. I wasn’t sure how long I could stay sitting up, considering I felt light-headed and ill after doing so. Drei perched on the edge of the mattress beside me, taking my hand in his again.

“Of course. Gloria is how I learned of elementals, clairvoyant vampires, and about the emptiness filling me. She told me not to give up on love because it had not given up on me. But for the meantime, I had to stop seeking it, else it would continue to elude me. It was not until speaking with her, I even realized love was for what I had been searching. The moment she said it, though, I knew it was true.

“After my conversation with her, I recalled the legend of the Lady of the Moon. She had always fascinated me, and I had studied her extensively throughout my living days. So I vowed to her, if she would bring me love someday, I would strive to deserve it.”

“Did you?” I asked, watching him carefully. He seemed so fragile as he spoke, I was terrified he would break and leave me alone in this place. As disappointed as I was that he was here to begin with, having him with me was better than being alone.

“I am not there yet,” he chided gently, squeezing my hand again, a smile barely visible on his lips. “Over the next few hundred years, between trying to locate my sisters while avoiding remembering my actions, bettering myself emotionally, and, in the past few decades, searching for and saving elementals, I began to find a balance in my life. The anger was still there, the first response to anything unpleasant, but it was no longer ruling alongside grief. Stoicism was my aim, and when I came across Valetta, she seemed at first to help that goal be attainable.

“For the longest time, I had thought she was the one I was to love. That was when I built my garden,” he said, holding my gaze again. “It was to help soothe unpleasantness and, in part, be a gift. Gloria stopped my thoughtlessness. She was not the one, nor had she ever been. She provided love, but I had none in return for her as much I longed to—which was a truth I could not deny. I valued Valetta, but I felt obligated to behave in ways to communicate love for her. Valetta did not handle the truth well. For many years, she was understandably upset;” he hung his head and furrowed his brow. “I did not mean to harm her emotions, but I could not allow us both to live untruthfully, and she did eventually forgive me, though, as you might know, her protectiveness is still fierce.”

“I definitely know,” I said, grinning sheepishly as I remembered how cold she had once been toward me. It seemed like forever since I had seen her, longer so since she had despised me.

“When Gloria first told me of you,” he continued, glancing at me again, “I had the most remarkable urge to bring you myself. We had never harbored an air elemental before, and I had thought that was why I was so eager. I had not meant to contact you before you had an inkling of the changes you would undergo, but seeing you struggle those nights to sleep, I could not help myself. You reminded me of my sisters in your restlessness. It was not until later I discovered how unlike them you were—are at times. How troubled and unhappy you were, yet stuck where you had no wish to be, even if you would not admit as much to yourself.

“Before I had reached this realization, your similarity to my sisters was unbearable. I had not meant to…but I found myself biting you.”

“So that was you.”

“You knew all the while,” he said, as though he might have raised an eyebrow at me had the situation been different. “I did not dare trust myself after that. If I lost myself in thinking of my sisters, I was sure to turn you, and that would be unacceptable. I knew that. Yet I could not help but return occasionally and watch your growth. You were never to know I was there, but I could not help but let myself be known when those men proved their intentions were dishonorable. Particularly towards you.”

I brushed a lock of hair from his pale face. “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to, but you saved me anyway.”

“But I did,” he said, shock lacing his voice. “I have already said you reminded me of my sisters, but I had come to realize you were different from them in so many ways. As you healed, I volunteered my stories, hoping they would help you. And as I did, I grew more protective of you, as I had been of my sisters, but…in a way that made little sense to me. It remained that way until it was far too late for me to alter the situation.”

“What do you mean?” I recalled his protectiveness, thinking of it then as unnecessary. Confusion kept clouding my thoughts and I didn’t see how this explained anything.

“I was—am in love with you. With the Council, the emotion is as punishable as the deed,” he said solemnly.

“Drei,” I said, smiling and trying to cheer him up. “We don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Drei turned from me and his whole body seemed to sag under a new weight. “Abriel, we do.”

Vampiric: Chapter Twelve, Part 1

Chapter Twelve: The Missing Pieces of the Puzzle

Wherever I had ended up was dark. In all my imaginings of death, I had never thought it would be dark. It had always been bright—on the brink of blinding—with a gentle melody leading me along to a place full of people who knew me, who had been waiting for me. To be in darkness made my failure seem far more stark.

“Before I explain,” Drei’s voice said from the darkness, “I need to tell you the story you’ve been requesting to hear.”

Hearing him so close wasn’t a comfort. I was terrified by the thoughts of what could have happened to him, especially after I had wanted him to stay safe. Being here—if it was where I thought I was—was not by any means safe.

“Where are you?” I asked, my voice harsh, my throat dry and constricted. Another oddity; I didn’t think death meant you still suffered bodily needs like thirst.

A lamp came on, temporarily blinding me. Once my eyes adjusted from the shock, I saw Drei sat on the edge of a nearby chair, hunched forward and seeming unable to look at me.

“Right here,” he whispered, his eyes dark and sorrowful.

The light partially illuminated the room around us. The entire space was dark, heavy curtains drawn over what appeared to be the only window. I had been tucked under sheets and thick woolen blankets on a bed. Thus far, the only thing consistent with my imaginings of death was that I didn’t feel like myself; something was very odd and not quite right with me.

 “Everything will make sense when I finish,” Drei said; I could have sworn I could feel his insecurity. That couldn’t be, though, because I remembered losing touch with the air in the hospital. I decided to trust Drei would make sense of this all.

“Okay,” I said, watching him carefully.

“Nearly 400 years ago, before I was turned, I met someone,” he said softly, the shame rising from the memory engulfing him. “At the time, I was finishing my studies at university. A few of my peers went to celebrate the end of exams, though most of us had another the following day. It was at the pub where she noticed and seduced me. There was no hiding what she was doing; she openly admitted what she wanted. When I resisted, insisting I could not partake that night, nor anytime soon as I was returning home after the commencement exercises, she told me I would be unable to resist her. Unfortunately, that was also the truth.

“She released me from her spell long enough to pass my final exam and receive my diploma. I had planned to make my escape after the ceremony and return home, but she awaited my exit and seduced me anew. I spent the next several weeks with her, not realizing how much time had elapsed until a letter arrived from home, requesting my immediate return. She was livid, insisting I would be unable to leave.” He rubbed his temples as though he could still hear her protests. “I knew I had to go. I missed my sisters, and she had underestimated the strength of my love for them. So one day, as she rested, I left, hoping that was the last I would see of that place.”

“What happened?” I asked, my voice still scratchy but slowly returning to normal.

Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he said, “A month later, she showed up in my bed chambers. There was no way she could have been there, let alone have known that is where I was. She scolded me for leaving her, insisting it had been a poor choice. That I wanted to please her, keep her contented, or she would drain me. It was my first indication as to her true nature. She presented me an option, then: I could devote myself to her and leave my family straight away, or I could deny her. Though she guaranteed I would not like the consequences of denying her, I…I could not imagine disappearing from my sisters’ lives. They needed me…they were still young and impressionable…you understand.” His voice was pleading, as if trying to convince me they didn’t deserve their fate, whatever it had been. “And I believed myself intelligent and resourceful enough to elude whatever consequences she promised.”

“Drei,” I whispered, not wanting him to continue. His hands and voice shook from the pain of the memory; I reached a hand out to him, though he was just out of reach. For as long as I had wanted to know, I didn’t want him plagued by remembering after he had worked so hard to forget. I hated seeing him pained, especially when there was little I could do about it.

“No, you must know to understand,” he asserted, moving his seat closer and taking my hand. I could still feel the pain and shame clouding the air around him, but the contact seemed to renew his resolve and stop his trembling.

“For weeks she showed up, issuing the same offer, and each time I remained insistent on staying. One evening, I had been taking a stroll, considering my future and whatnot when she appeared. I thought she was there for the same reason she had been the nights previously, so I ignored her. Until she stopped me. She teased me a while, asking for another chance to fix things between us. When I explained I would have to refuse her, she stalled with small talk. After an appropriate interval of time, she let me go with no proposal, no threats or consequences. I was sure I had finally convinced her she did not need me. How naïve I was,” Drei lamented, cradling his head in his free hand, gripping tighter to mine.

Vampiric: Chapter Eight, Part 6

The night before the broadcast, Caroline, Ian, and I were hanging out at the office, talking. More, they were talking about when they grew up together and I was listening, joining in when something hilarious arose. It was sometime between the story of him trying to kiss her (and was slapped across the face) and Ian revealing her fiery college breakups—one of which actually involved fire—she asked, “Abs, is there anything you’ve wanted to do since—you know?”

I thought about it a moment. The only thing I could think of was what I had done in the past when things were so unbelievably screwed up it felt like I had no other choice. “Run away.”

She tapped her chin, thinking. “Well, I can’t condone running away, but I know somewhere you can drive really fast, if that helps anything.” Before I could say anything, she said, “Give it some thought. We’ll chat some more for now.”

That was when Ian cut in with the story of Caroline’s worst break up. According to him, she was so pissed about it, she nearly burned down the dorm. Of course she denied it was ever that serious, but he just kept nodding. So as payback, she spilled about his thirteen totaled vehicles—in the same year—though he insisted it was only eight. More stories followed with more disagreements on how true each was. It was entertaining to say the least, keeping a smile on my lips as I listened.

At the end of the night, Ian asked, “You sure you don’t want me to take her?”

“I’m sure.” Facing me, she said, “I’ll drive down there, but then it’s all you.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, glancing from one to the other.

“She’s taking you to the old highway,” Ian offered. “It’s not really used anymore, but it’s not in half bad condition.”

“And the cops aren’t usually over there, either. So the speed limit is whatever you want it to be.”

“I don’t know—”

“You wanted to run away?” Caroline held my gaze in such a way that threatened to pummel me if I wasn’t honest.

“Yes.”

“This is as close to it as I can condone,” she said, dragging me toward a Mercedes Benz. “So don’t say you don’t know or thank you or any of that crap until after you’ve driven. It’ll either help you or do nothing.”

With that, she sped away through town, turning the radio up as if anticipating complaints. I wasn’t going to try complaining, though. After how I had acted whenever she was doing something I didn’t want her to—even if it was for my benefit—it was reasonable she’d expect some kind of resistance.

Caroline didn’t pull over until we’d been heading down a dark road for a few minutes.

“Your turn;” she climbed out and half-jogged to the passenger side.

She watched as I buckled in and figured out where everything was. It was strange how desolate it was out here, especially because the city wasn’t that far away. Another strange thing was that I hadn’t driven in as long as I hadn’t had a purse.

I accelerated until I was at 60 miles an hour, figuring driving was kind of like riding a bike. “Faster,” she instructed and I obeyed, the fleeting feeling of danger filling my chest, quickly replaced by thrill.

The faster I went, the more I thought about what I was doing. Was I really trying to get away from him? I wanted to run, but what was I running from? Or was that all together the wrong question? Inside, it felt like I wasn’t running away, but running towards something. There wasn’t anything to run from, when I thought about it. If I wanted to fix anything, all of that was behind me, along with the only support system I had anymore.

What if I was running towards him? The version of him in my dreams, who loved me still? That reminded me of Mom and if I was running towards what I was supposed to do. Or Dad and what I had left behind all those years ago.

And then I had to ask myself if I even wanted any of that. When I had left, I left because I was alone and scarred by classmates. What I was supposed to do, what did that have to do with anything? Everyone had been talking about it for so long I believed it was important. But what use was it if I didn’t have anything left for myself afterwards? And did I really want him to love me again? Did I? After I had done everything he had ever asked of me and he kicked me to the curb as if I was just some beggar who was bothering him? Was that the kind of person I wanted in my life? Nick may have lied to me, but he would have listened. But how could I be sure about that even? I had thought Drei would have listened, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t even look at me; he didn’t even treat me like a person.

“Abriel!” Caroline was shouting beside me, breaking through my racing thoughts. Glancing at the speedometer, I couldn’t even tell how fast I was going. Everything was blurry, even the road in front of me. My cheeks were flaming and wet. “Pull over,” she said, rapidly hitting the dash with an open palm.

Hitting the brakes, I tried to stop the tears that were already overwhelming me. The moment the car was stopped, Caroline reached over and turned off the ignition as I struggled free from my seatbelt and jumped out of the car, needing air. Needing answers. In need of something I couldn’t have.

“Abs,” she called after me, but my feet just kept moving, stumbling along beneath me. It didn’t matter where anymore. The tears were too thick for me to see anything. “Abs—Abriel, stop,” she begged, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me to a standstill. I turned into her embrace and cried onto her shoulder. Rubbing my back, she whispered, “It’s all right. It’ll be all right.”

She didn’t ask, but later I would sit down with her and explain. It was the first time she didn’t press for answers about what was wrong, and it would be the first time I would really tell her anything. What I said was “I love him more than anything in the world, but loving him isn’t what’s hurting me. Wanting him back in my life is what’s hurting me. So, I’ve decided, no matter how much I want him to love me again, I can’t have someone in my life who can hurt me that much.”

Caroline reached across the table and squeezed my hand, wiping a tear from my cheek. “Then I’ll support you,” she said, her voice soft and comforting.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling the few tears I had left in me tumble down my cheeks. Despite being the cause of my problems, she gave me something I had been missing, regardless how many times I pushed her away. She gave me a friend.

Vampiric: Chapter Seven, Part 12

Drei was back to disappearing before I could catch him, and I couldn’t miss anymore of Caroline’s calls without some repercussion. I hated that this was what we had been reduced to. We might as well have been time sharers.

It was a week before the next broadcast when we finally happened to be there at the same time. I was just arriving home from another meeting. Drei was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper.

“Can we talk?” I asked cautiously, hanging my purse on a rung of the coat rack.

Drei gazed at me a long moment before setting his paper down. Sitting across from him, I asked the first and most important question I had thought of: “What happened?” His brow furrowed, and before he could demand some clarification, I added, “Between us. Why are you avoiding me and angry, and cold all of the time? What did I do?”

“You are not aware?” he asked quietly, his amethyst eyes flat and stony. I hadn’t seen his eyes so cold since Nick had been at camp. And even then, they had rarely been directed at me.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin guessing.”

“Let me give you a few clues, then;” the ice in his tone suggested I really had done something and, whatever it was, it could not be easily forgiven. “Our arrival here your first day back? Your new position? Still no? Then you leave me for her. In the middle of something intimate—for me, at least.”

“Caroline? What does she have to do with anything?”

“It is more painful to lie, Abriel;” his features were stoic though his voice betrayed pain and anger. “I witnessed you kiss her that day. This promotion, the phone calls, they are all a ruse. You can tell me.”

“But it isn’t. Nothing happens. I don’t even know—”

“You do not have to lie or justify it. Just be honest.”

“But I’m not lying;” I felt tears press at my eyes and my throat start to tighten. My mouth felt dry and I could barely swallow.

“I have trusted for years what I see. I am not about to change that because you want me to.” He stood, turning away from me. So this really was all her fault. She was the reason he was tearing my heart out of his chest.

“I’m not lying,” I choked, drowning in the accusations and clues and thoughts flooding my mind.

“Just admit it!” He turned suddenly, grabbing the arm rests of my chair. His flaming and vibrantly dark eyes were inches from mine.

“I can’t. Not when you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You love her, just say it! Stop lying to me. Stop pretending your affections belong to me. Just stop it all!”

I covered my mouth and shook my head, trying to contain my anguish and shake out all of the hurtful words. “I’m working for her because of you…because I love you. You told me I needed her; you told me to go back to work for her because she needed me.”

“I did not think you would make a relationship of it.” He pushed off from the chair; though he stood upright, his head was bowed and his shoulder slumped.

“I did it for you. I love you…so I did what you wanted.”

“Your fickleness is not something I desire,” he whispered, turning away.

I bit my lip. He wouldn’t listen; he was too stubborn and set in his belief of this. If he knew me at all, how could he possibly think this about me? It didn’t seem probable in the least. I think that’s what hurt the most. He didn’t know me well enough to trust I wasn’t lying to him.

Trying to hold myself together, I asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

Slowly shuffling away, he didn’t bother to turn back to me. “It might be for the best.”

Unable to stand looking back, I grabbed my purse and shoes and ran from the apartment, still trying to keep it together by forcing myself to breathe slowly, but my chest was too tight and the air seemed too thin.

Outside, I sat on a bench, staring at the blurred phone in my hand. Caroline and Ian were the only other people I knew around there. But Caroline had started all of this and Ian was her friend. It would feel like an admission of guilt to call and ask for their support. For their help. Yet, I didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Before I could make up my mind to do anything, the phone sang out its piano melody.

“Look,” Caroline began before I could say anything. “A problem came up with one of the people we chose, so we have to pick someone else.”

I tried to answer, I really did. I was determined not to cry on the phone to her, not even sure I wanted her help. She was partially responsible for this and I hadn’t begun to think through how I felt about that.

“Where are you?”

Realizing the depth of the situation, I couldn’t help but break down into tears. Drei didn’t love me because I had done what he had wanted. I didn’t have a place to stay anymore. To top things off, my heart was shattered by the one person I never thought could hurt me. Who would never willingly choose to hurt me.

“Abs?” She sounded worried. I wished I could tell her I was fine, but I couldn’t stop the gasping sobs shaking my body. It didn’t feel like I had any control left over anything. “Oh, god, Abs,” she said into the phone, her voice tremulous. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Don’t move.” The phone fell from my hand as I sat there, crying, hugging myself, and trying to keep the rest of me from shattering as well.